Grey-some

'Tis I.

Name it -The Fall;

When your incessant gaze is still locked at my flight

And I wonder why a shooting star is often looked at!

May be it is thy merry in I,

- I, fading away!

The clouds shall rain no more

As I fall today with their laments devoured

But seldom the water; I am the downpour of a pale hue,

I shall not bring you the rain.

When I may touch a destiny found,

I'd shatter in solid grey...

And if you hold these pieces abandoned from each other,

Abandoned altogether;

I'd still make the star!

-Fallen, gloomy, and grey-some;

But now, you'd barely wish a gaze.